An ordinary day
by Ninfea di Luna
Summary: Please, remember english is not my native language ! Very short story, just RR


Teitho contest august 2009: Eleven realms

**An ****ordinary**** Day**

Summary: Aragorn and Legolas found an injured elf in the woods, who tell them where she came from.

Sat in an armchair, Legolas remembered this day. It was raining. The weather had been bad all the week and this morning, it was still raining. He thought sadly that it was only an ordinary day. Just another day for the majority of the people of Arda, but one tragic day for the few people who _knew_. Just another day.

Aragorn and Legolas were returning from a hunt. The elf was merry, but the human was grumpy: he hated the rain. His feet were getting stuck in the mud, and he groaned with each step. That slowed down considerably the walking pace of the two friends. Legolas, several meters ahead, made a pause to wait for the ranger. He raised his head to let the rain slip freely on his face. He smiled. He could almost smell the revival of its heart, under fresh water. He turned, Aragorn's grumbles getting closer. He was about to send him a stinging remark when a noise made him turn around, towards the opposite direction. He put his finger on his mouth, telling Aragorn to remain silent. Accustomed to travel with his elf friend, the man did as he was told and crouched, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Legolas advanced gently in the direction of the river. Put aside the lapping of the waves and the falling rain, there was noise. He wondered one moment if what he had heard had come from animal. He was feeling a curious sensation. Aragorn joined him.

« _Melon nin_? Is all well?

Legolas took a few seconds to answer:

- There is no danger, if it is what you want to say, but I do not know if `all is well'.

- What do you mean?

- They are not orcs, nor animals, but I have an odd emergency feeling.

He stiffened and took abruptly Aragorn by the arm:

- Did you hear? It just happened again!

- Legolas, I do not have your elvish hearing, I…

- It is an elf! Exclaimed suddenly the prince of Greenwood, without listening to what his friend wanted to say to him. Come Aragorn, it is necessary that we find it! »

And without leaving him time to reply, Legolas rushed with a quick pace along the river. Upon seeing that he left only almost unperceivable traces in the mud, Aragorn let out a brief growl of despair and started a difficult advance in the same direction.

A cry of his friend made him raise the head. He instantaneously forgot any futile intention of complaint suddenly raised his pace. Behind a tree, he saw his friend knelt at the edge of the water. Aragorn shivered violently. Was Legolas wounded? Why had he shouted? The man did hi best to hurry, indifferent this time to the rain or the mud.

Legolas got up swiftly and looked for his friend. He immediately located him and made signs to urge him along. Relieved that his friend was not wounded, Aragorn sighed and forced a little more still his pace.

When he came within voice range, he asked:

"Legolas? What happened?

- Come quickly! She is wounded!

These words seemed to give wings to the ranger. The instinct of the healer had taken over his wearied body.

As he finally arrived at the level of the two elves, after one minute which seemed like an hour to him, he could not prevent a wince at sight of his friend's hand, covered with the blood a half immersed creature.

- She is an elf, announced Legolas.

Without answering, the man knelt beside his friend, at side of the elf who laid on her belly at the edge of the river, on a small pebble beach. He was almost startled by the contact of her cold skin. With precaution, he slipped the hand on the nape of her neck, while turning her over gently. Legolas maintained his two hands pressed on her thorax, in a poor attempt to limit, if not to stop, the flow of blood. Aragorn drew aside the hair of the face to examine her. She had no reaction.

She was indeed and elf, as her pointy ears testified. Her eyes were closed, and her blue lips proved that she had spent a considerable amount of time in the water. With a light tremor, Aragorn approached his ear to her mouth, praying that he would hear a breath. Fortunately it was the case. Legolas had a sigh of relief upon seeing his friend raising his head and smiling to him.

- It is necessary that we quickly take her along to Rivendel, she's losing a lot of blood.

- Will she survive the journey?

Aragorn did not answer immediately. He raised his eyes to his friend, and without smiling this time, he said:

- She will not survive the wait while one of us returns with a horse and a stretcher. »

Legolas wrapped the elf of his cape before taking her in his arms, being astonished by her negligible weight, even for an elf. The two friends pressed themselves in the direction of the kingdom of Elrond, always under a fine and unpleasant rain.

They arrived finally, after one half-day of harassing walk. The rain had finally ceased. Informed by watchers, Lord Elrond waited for the two friends at the entry of the city.

He sighed upon seeing them arriving. He accompanied them directly in a healing room.

"In what troubles did you two once more put yourself? Who is she?

Legolas gently laid his precious loading on the bed. He accepted with pleasure the dry cover that Aragorn was holding out to him, who had already wrapped himself in one.

- We do not know, answered finally the human to his father. We found her on a beach of Bruinen. Legolas heard her use the last of her strength to haul herself up on the shore, he added after a glance to his friend who agreed in silence.

Elrond was already examining the elf, who was still unconscious. He quickly cut her dress, on the level of the hips. He stopped one moment and with a sent away Aragorn and Legolas with a meaningful glance. He swiftly removed all the fabric. He winced with the sight of the deep wound, from which blood was still oozing out, in spite of first aid which Aragorn and Legolas had been able to give her. He washed the elf summarily, dealt with her main wound and looked after the few others less serious ones that he discovered, before dressing her with a long shirt in beige linen. He sat down finally at the side of the bed and with a tired gesture, passed his hand on his face. He hoped with all his heart that she was not the one which he thought she was.

After a moment, the elf in the bed moaned and tried to rectify herself on the bed. Elrond put a hand on her shoulder so that she would remain lying. She started with the contact of his skin and looked at the healer, disorientated.

« _Ada _? She asked.

- You are in Rivendel, _penneth_. My son and his friend found you at the edge of the river and brought you back. How do you feel?

He realized at once that it was a stupid question to pose with an injured woman. Moreover, this one did not answer. She turned her head away and closed her eyelids as hard as she could, in a desperate attempt not to cry.

- _Penneth_ ? You…

- Cease calling me thus! Only my father can!

- Very well. How do you want me to call you?

The elf appeared indecisive, which did not surprise Elrond particularly. He hesitated between leaving her alone in the calm for a while or on the contrary to press her on and make her speak. Her identity imported little to him, in any case he was almost certain that he knew it, but he needed to know if she was hurt badly, and where, to treat her better.

- You have recognized me, have you not, Lord Elrond? Two polished swords, one plain, and one with sylvan patterns. She had a brief smile. I thought I was never going to finish these tiny leaves. A grimace of pain passed fugitively on her face.

Elrond approached:

- I need to know how you feel, Eressië.

But the elf looked away once more.

- They all… they're all dead, Lord Elrond. Her voice trembled.

- Who?

- All the inhabitants… Orcs… We are a peaceful folk, very little among us know how to fight… Knew… I could not do anything.

Eressië quickly passed a hand on her eyes to hide her tears.

- Eressië? Do you mean to say that-?

- Yes. Silmenàro does not exist anymore. »

Elrond and Eressië spoke a long moment. Behind the door, Aragorn and Legolas did not dare to enter. Finally the lord of these halls left, looking more tired than ever.

"How is she? Aragorn dared.

- She is tired, she lost a lot of blood. She was wounded while she was trying to escape from Orcs; therefore there is a risk that they are poisoned.

Legolas threw a perplexed glance to him:

- You are not sure of that?

Elrond answered him with a severe glance:

- Believe me, if she is poisoned, I will look after her, but in the meantime there are more serious matters at hand and she has many other concerns.

None of them spoke during a few minutes. Legolas inquired finally:

- Have you discovered who she is, and where she is from?

- Yes. She is called Eressië. She comes from Silmenàro, far to the North.

- An elf of the Silver Islands? Legolas murmured, impressed.

- She worked there as a blacksmith. I bought several blades from her, all of them customed. She is the most gifted elf smith that I have ever met. She raised ironwork to the rank of art.

- I always wanted to go to Silmenàro, continued Legolas, with a dreamy look in his eyes. I often hear people say that it's a city of art …

Elrond did not answer immediately; then, after a few seconds, he sighed and decided that it would be useless to conceal what had just happened.

- Unfortunately, that will not be possible any more, from now on. Silmenàro was entirely destroyed in an attack of Orcs. They burned the city. I already sent a group of warriors to enquire myself of possible survivors, he replied to the mute question of the two friends opposite him.

- She succeeded in fleeing up to here? Aragorn was astonished.

- She is an excellent fighter, contrary to the majority of the artists of the Silver Islands. Crossing the Bruinen was what saved her from the Orcs, they did not dare to follow her.

- Will she live?

- I do not know. She is very weak, and convinced to be the last survivor. Her wounds are serious, but beyond those, I fear that she might let herself die. »

Lord Elrond excused himself and slipped away to regain his office. Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other with questioning glances, both speechless. Finally Legolas signalled his friend that he was going to enter the room. He pushed the door gently, without knocking, not to awake the elf if she had fallen asleep. He passed his head in the opening, and seeing that she was looking outside, decided to come sit down near her and introduce himself.

« _Mae Govannen_. My name is Legolas. We found you at the edge of the river, with my friend Estel, he added by designating his friend who entered in his turn.

The elf turned towards the Prince his brown eyes. She observed him one moment before smiling slightly.

- I am Eressië, of Silmenàro, the Silver Islands.

- Lord Elrond told us what happened, said Aragorn, with a hesitant tone. I am sorry…

A flash of suffering passed in the eyes of the elf. She diverted her glance towards the window and murmured:

- Yes. I am too.

An awkward silence settled.

Finally Eressië required:

- Do you want to help me to the balcony?

- I am not sure that it is … began Aragorn.

But Legolas had already risen and answered:

- As long as you stay lying, even once you're outside. " The elf agreed, and so Legolas undertook the task to set up a berth on the small terrace. His friend raised his eyes to the sky and came forward to help him, while murmuring "Ada will kill us… ".

Legolas and Aragorn then helped the elf to change beds. Once she was comfortably installed, they looked at the rain fall for a long moment.

Lord Elrond joined them later, and if he had been against the fact that Eressië was not in her bed anymore, he did not say anything of it. He sat down near them, in silence, eyes fixed on his city gleaming with water.

"I heard one day that Silmenàro is a town of music even in its art of cooking.

Elrond and Aragorn threw to Legolas a surprised glance with this declaration, but the elf looked at Eressië, and was happy to see her face lighten up with a smile.

- It is true, she answered. It is the city where I was born, also, and although I always found it superb, it never appeared foreign to me. It is the impression which it makes with a number of visitors, she specified. It is so… different from the other elvish cities.

- I went there twice, said Elrond in his turn, and never had felt at home, there. As if… I was not worthy. It is a very strange feeling. When I was there, I had the impression to live in a dream.

Eressië smiled once more and added:

- I remember it. The first time that you came to my forging mill, you summed me not to be so cheeky with my Master.

- Do not tell that to these two! Winced Elrond.

- Oh yes, on the contrary, tell us! Aragorn insisted.

- I had an apprentice at that time and I was supervising his work from afar, while I was listening to what Lord Elrond wanted to order me. I made a reflexion to my young student, and was severely scolded by your father. He had thought that I was the apprentice and that my student was my Master.

- I am sorry that you remembered it.

- I did not say anything, and the following day, when your father returned to observe the work, he saw me forging his sword and he was, to say the least… cross.

- I had explicitly asked that it was the Master Blacksmith who was to deal with my order.

- Then he finally advanced towards me, and he understood who I was when he saw the work which I carried out. She made a pause and laughed gently: I never heard somebody apologize as much.

All four of them laughed heartily.

- I would never have had this kind of prejudice anywhere else than in Silmenàro. I was too eager to lean upon the things that I knew to pay attention to the fact that it was precisely the wrong thing to do in such a city.

- If this city can confuse my father, it must be quite astonishing", declared Aragorn.

Eressië's eyes were lost in the distance, suddenly very sad, very tired. Elrond leaned above her with an anxious air:

"Are you hurting, _penneth_? Then he changed his mind and was about to apologize, but Eressië smiled and answered:

- You gained the right to call me thus. And no, I am not hurting, I am only tired.

- Do you want our help to regain your bed?

- No. I will remain here, to sleep a little. But return quickly", she added with a smile, and then her three companions left.

As she had asked of them, they let her rest a few hours. Elrond regularly returned to check that she was well. But his eyebrows wrinkled each time a little more, but he would not tell Aragorn or Legolas what was wrong.

Finally, Lord Elrond invited them to enter with him. Eressië was still lying on the balcony. She appeared even paler than a few moments ago.

They were seated in the same places as previously. She looked at them settling, and Elrond started the conversation:

"You know why we are there, _penneth_.

- Yes. I am dying.

She had a smile without joy, and let her eyes turn over to wander afar.

Legolas and Aragorn looked at Eressië. She had a shady grace, in the waiting of death. She appeared at peace with herself. Elrond had just diagnosed a serious internal bleeding, against which he could not anything.

Legolas approached the bed and inquired:

- Speak to us about your city. There I would so much have liked to go there at least once…"

Eressië smiled, sincerely this time. She looked at Elrond, then Aragorn and finally Legolas, on which her eyes remained a little longer.

Finally, she began her story.

"When you leave the forest of Hewsta, you are to the far North of Middle Earth, and unless you decided to come during the two summer months, you will have faced snow. But if your desire for coming to see us does not weaken, nor your courage, you will arrive on an illuminated area, in front of a lake without end, a marvellous landscape, serene yet joyful, nature in its prime. You are on the lands furthest in the North before the pole, the delta of the Hwinya River. You are thus at the same time on a river, a lake and the sea.

When you raise your eyes to the horizon, you will see small islands of dazzling white land emerging from the river. The sky is always blue because it is purified by the wind. The white light never fades away.

To reach the principal island where stands the Silver City, you must take a boat, among others which sail on the sea, on a journey which never seems to end.

You can see from afar an astonishing combination, an invisible screen: a silver and water weaving.

You pass very close to small uninhabited islands, of sawing sand banks, as if they were posed on motionless water.

Then you approach and start to distinguish the pointed roofs from the city, built thus to counter the snow.

You arrive finally in the middle of the lagoon, between sky and ground. The lagoon is bordered by beautiful palaces, proud as if they were aware to be in charge of History. You land on the principal place, in half-circle, where all the streets meet. You turn around. The sight here gains the freedom of another space.

You are finally in the city of Sciences and Arts. You can benefit from the life of the artists and any other heart, in a city dedicated to nature and the sky, to water and movement, a water lily city, closed on itself, but which offers splendours to those with the patience to look at them blossoming. A large stone flower on the water.

The first time that you come, you wander randomly the streets, privileging the sunny ones. You will find the place enchanted.

With the turning of a street, you will stop in an unoccupied garden. You will be able enjoy there the delicate pleasure of the meditation which is offered to you like a timeless desert. One perceives there the celestial serenity of the song of the birds in the thickets so dense that you cannot see their heart. The song of a bird tells, the elf with an attentive ear, if this thicket is dark or magic. But every thicket in Silmenàro is magic. It is the spiritual solidity and the existential wisdom which make us perceive this place as mysterious and festive.

When you move on, you will not want to be in the sun anymore. You feel as if you were on an intellectual and sentimental pilgrimage. You thus pass from the light to the shade. You go along the walls smooth, compact and mauve of the houses. The light is pink pale at certain hours of the day. The mystery mixes with the beauty. Everyone is lost among these colours and these echoes. The city seems alive and vibrating in the double light of the walls and the sky.

But the Silver City has also a dark side. You will probably lose yourselves in an interlacing of passages which lead to nowhere. It will seem to you that the city has a heart. And this heart can hear and be heard. Thus, lost in this obscure labyrinth, you will cease to admire the carved patterns which hang to the pediments of the palaces, and advance slowly, with fear, in the half-light. The city is divided between half-light and full light. It is a metaphorical city.

However, all the streets eventually come back to the mirror of the city: the sea. The waves move away, go around the world, and always come back. They slap the stones with their kisses of love and salt. The sea is blue like fish but also black like anger. Water steals and penetrates the skin; it silently dictates our states of mind.

That makes the population a little lunatic, with moods which wake up and change constantly, a population which gets exasperated and stabilized according to the wind. »

She fell silent, Legolas, Aragorn and Elrond, stared at an invisible point, in the distance. Her own eyes seemed heavy and in a last smile, she closed them definitively.

Legolas remembered that at this time, the bad weather had been dissipated and that the sun again lit fully Fondcombe. It was simply an afternoon after the storm. Just another day, where a city, modelled in a breath, had just died out.

THE END


End file.
